Read Online The Chase for the Mystery Twister by Franklin W. Dixon - Free Book Online Page B

more about Gill and his insurance business.”
    â€œThe whole community of Lone Wolf is supposedto show up for the barn raising at the Parlette farm tomorrow morning,” Joe said. “While you’re talking to Bixby, Phil can warn the man at the bank, and I can go fishing for information.”
    Having agreed on a plan, the Hardys said good night to Phil and retired to their sleeping bags. Though the floor was hard and the equipment storage room was crowded and dusty, they slept as well as if they were sleeping in feather beds in a royal palace.
    â€¢Â Â â€¢Â Â â€¢
    By the time Joe arrived at the Parlette farm at seven in the morning, thirty people were already hard at work.
    â€œWe assemble the new walls on the ground,” Snowdon said as he walked over. He handed Joe a hammer. “Then we raise up the walls and secure them in place.”
    â€œI’m sorry about your grandfather being arrested,” Joe said.
    Snowdon nodded as he cast his eyes toward the ground. “And I’m sorry if I wasn’t completely truthful with you. I was trying to protect my grandfather. He thinks he’s been set up.” Snowdon shook his head and looked at Joe. “I don’t know what to believe.”
    â€œWe’re going to do everything we can to find out the truth,” Joe assured him. “You can help by telling me everything you know about Toby Gill.”
    â€œHe seemed like a nice guy to me the few times I met him,” Snowdon replied. “Jed McPlat might know more.” Snowdon pointed to a young man with red hair and freckles. “He’s one of Greg Glover’s people. Gill settled a claim for Jed when he totaled his minivan while chasing an F three tornado through a mall parking lot last summer.”
    Joe walked over and kneeled down to work beside Jed McPlat.
    â€œJoe Hardy’s the name,” Joe said.
    â€œHowdy,” McPlat replied, preparing to secure a slat of wood to the frame.
    Joe held the slat steady while McPlat drove in a nail. “Did you hear about Toby Gill disappearing?” Joe asked.
    McPlat’s next swing of the hammer missed the mark. “No.”
    â€œSheriff San Dimas is concerned,” Joe continued. “A lot of people bought tornado insurance from him.”
    â€œThat’s too bad,” McPlat said. “Toby’s a solid man. I got some good, cheap auto insurance through him.”
    â€œAnd it was legitimate?” Joe asked.
    McPlat closed his left eye and peered at Joe with his right. “Yeah, it was legitimate. I wrecked my minivan, and a week later, he gave me the money to fix it.”
    â€œDo you remember what insurance company your check was from?” Joe asked.
    â€œThere was no check,” McPlat said. “I told you, Toby gave me the money to fix it. It was cash.”
    â€œCash?” Joe repeated. No one pays out insurance claims in cash, he thought. Unless they have something to hide, he concluded.
    â€¢Â Â â€¢Â Â â€¢
    â€œThat is shocking information,” Bixby said. He leaned back in his leather chair and shook his head. Frank was seated on the other side of his desk.
    â€œSheriff San Dimas is probably out at the farm right now, looking for proof in the remains,” Frank said. “Even if our hunch about Kanner is wrong, it’s not going to hurt anything to delay paying him for a week.”
    â€œNo, you’re right,” Bixby agreed. “When you’re dealing with such large sums of money, it pays to be prudent. United Insurers has a special team that investigates suspicious claims. I’ll have them get right on it.”
    Bixby shook Frank’s hand and walked him to the door.
    â€œOh, by the way,” Frank said, “we don’t think Hal Kanner was even at his farm when the storm passed through. He said he called you right after the tornado went through, but I noticed his phone lines were